


We've Got It All For You! (If You Can Find It, That Is)

by ruff_ethereal



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Birthday Presents, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Star tries to look for the perfect gift for Marco in Quest Buy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've Got It All For You! (If You Can Find It, That Is)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loserteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=loserteeth).



> Title is a parody of SM Supermalls tag line, "We've got it all for you!"

“Attention all shoppers, Quest Buy having a special 10% off sale on Claw-Proof Hoodies in the Armour and Clothing department.”

There was a brief moment of chaos as the announcer started screaming and crying for help while an unidentified creature with angry, high pitched growls and claws attacked him.

“Uuuhhh… make that… Claw-Resistant Hoodies…” The announcer groaned. “Available in black, white, red, and blue...” There was a soft thud before the PA system cut off.

Star sighed as she walked through the labyrinthine aisles. It would have made a great gift, if Marco hadn't proven time and again that his regular hoodies were protection enough against monsters.

Sure, they didn't always make it out of a fight unscathed, but they were cheap, and Marco had a closet full of replacements.

She ended up wandering into the Culinary Arts department—separate from the kitchen department, the regular grocery, and the Grocery of Doom. Star looked at some of the raw ingredients, jars, and packages on the shelves.

A jar of “Powdered Humanoid Species Bones (Baking)”.

Star recoiled and kept on walking.

A vacuum and magically sealed bag of frozen P. U. Caremake “Kraken Balls”.

Star shook her head; Marco wasn't much for Oriental or Eldritch cuisine, nor did she think the Diaz kitchen stocked the right kind of oil for proper flavour, and a pot of the right size and make to handle any potential hazards with cooking them.

She knew from personal experience that some animals kept didn't stop fighting so much as they took a break and waited for an opportunity to strike back.

A dozen box-tray of “Fertilized Immature Roc Eggs”.

Star shuddered even harder than she did with the bone baking powder. Who'd even want to eat those things…?

“Excuse, me, miss! Can I interest you in some 'Red Hot Dunes of Doom' hot sauce?!”

Star turned to the salesperson at said product's booth, and watched them with interest.

They smiled. “I can guarantee you that there is no hotter hot sauce in the market, or even in any other source in any dimension, known, and possibly unknown! Why, just one drop of this hot, hot, _hot_ sauce outclasses two of our the second hottest hot sauce on the market! Watch!”

The salesperson opened their mouth, lolled out their tongue, and put a miniscule drop of Red Hot on their tongue.

Star watched them run around screaming in agony, alternately spewing flames and clawing at their throat for almost a minute before she decided to back away slowly and leave.

After some more wandering around, she found herself in the Armaments and Ammunition department.

Star looked up and marveled at the giant collection of weapons, hundreds of thousands of different styles and origins. Orkish “Choppas” in all their varied designs and makes; swords for miles on end, for stabbing, for slashing, and sometimes even spinning, some stuck in stones, some talking, some possessed by devils and crying; powered weapons like a candy pink chainsaw (“Great against the living dead!”), rocket propelled fists (“Giant robot sold separately.”), and even a drill that their makers claimed “will pierce the Heavens!”

(Though, that last one came with a disclaimer that it is only guaranteed with the Heavens of the manufacturer's dimension.)

Then Star frowned as she realized: Marco didn't fight with weapons, he fought with his body, and whatever he could use from his environment. Even Star was more of a collector than anything else; the wand and her own brawling skills were no match for pretty much anything they'd ever encountered.

Fortunately, Quest Buy being what it is, they had an entire section dedicated to unarmed combat, or just enhancing martial arts, or a species natural fighting skills.

Star ignored the extra sharp claw extensions, the mandible guards, and the hoof pads for “safe, comfortable, and ergonomic trampling,” and went straight to the section dedicated to hands, fists, and close variations thereof.

A pair of “Blast Fists,” metal gloves with explosives attached to the knuckles, “BECAUSE EXPLOSIONS ARE (BEEP)-ING AWESOME” said the head inventor/CEO of the manufacturer.

Star passed it by. Using explosives just didn't seem like something Marco would want to do, given karate's strict code of honour. Besides, they'd have to keep coming back to buy replacement charges all the time, and that'd be a drag, and a lot of money.

Though, she had to admit, that would make their fights a _lot_ more awesome.

(Somewhere, in another dimension, the creator of the Blast Fists smiled.)

Die cast gloves in the exact shape of a famous dimension's infinillionaire/adventurer/weapons company CEO and owner/bare-knuckle brawler of “man, beast, and everything in all the dimensions that can be punched, or can be made to be.”

Again, Star realized they'd be more decorative or worthy of a collection, seeing as there was only one person's hands who'd fit into them—and Marco's fists weren't even close to being that absurdly large, and so manly there had to be allowance for the hair on the back of their hands.

A scroll detailing the “One Finger Death Punch.”

Star passed it by; who'd want to win a fight with only a single punch, and especially one that just used a single finger? It'd make every fight a bore, though she did admit it'd be entertaining to see the look on Ludo's face the first couple of times they used it, before it got old.

And again, it just didn't seem to be in line with karate's code of honour.

The rest of the offerings for hand-to-hand combat were similarly disappointing. Star stopped and left the section just as the less popular offerings were sharing space with the products geared for forearms.

After some time, Star found herself in the Gifts and Novelties department.

She skipped the postcards from all over the dimensions—why would she want to give Marco an image when they could just use the dimensional scissors and go there in person? There was a good chance they'd have an awesome adventure there, too.

She had to admit, though, some of them would look very pretty up on a wall, especially the moving ones.

Star passed on most of the novelty items, too. Marco wasn't one for pranks, so the Skewed Stevie's “Everlasting Woopie Cushion” was lost on him—and besides, the warning that the plug that came with the item was the only thing that could seal it, and that neither the manufacturer nor Quest Buy sold replacement plugs was enough to dissuade her.

Then, Star saw the massive display with its own magical advertisement bit, and gasped. She rushed over to it immediately and grabbed one of the boxes off the display stack.

A “Memory Crystal” that could be used to store a person's memory for safe keeping, forever untainted by age, future events, and viewable exactly as it was stored wherever, whenever.

Star smiled, until she read the attached warning on the side of the box.

Said memories would be completely ripped out of a person's mind—“not a painful process, mind you (pun intended),” but that space would immediately become empty, a vast hole to be quickly refilled by future events. A person might have little to no recollection of the memory, possibly with the side-effect of any knowledge they had gotten from it, like a vacation spot that was excellent but well hidden, a merchant overpriced their goods, or a Fun Cave that was anything but.

It also might completely nullify any sort of training or skill honing the person had gained during that time, “so you might want to think twice about storing your memories about learning how to ride a bicycle—you might have to do it all over again.”

Star sighed, and put the box back onto the display.

Were memories of their adventures stored like ancient Earth videotapes be worth the cost? Would they even rewatch their memories, and see how it wasn't quite as exciting or good as they remember—or rather, don't? What if they lost the crystal and the memory really _was_ gone for good _?_

And was storing memories ruining what made them so great? The way they'd eventually change and morph over time, that filter of nostalgia, little things and events reminding of you on them suddenly and then making the present all that much better?

Star's phone alarm started ringing frantically.

“Oh no!”

Star didn't even bother with an exit sign spell this time. She just pulled her dimensional scissors out of her dress pocket, cut a tear back into Earth, and jumped in. She came back to her room at a run, and would have rammed her door open if it didn't open to the inside.

Star didn't even bother closing it as she rushed down the hallway, the stairs, and into the Diaz' living room.

She was out of breath, sweating, and bent over by the time she got there. Not exactly how she wanted to come to Marco's birthday party—especially the “without the perfect gift” part.

Marco smiled at Star as he sat on the Birthday Boy Throne. “Hey, Star, where've you been? We were worried we'd have to start the party without you!”

“I've…” Star panted. “I've...”

Mr. Diaz filled a plastic cup with soda and handed it to Star. Star chugged it, gasped, and thanked him.

“I've been trying to look for the perfect gift for you.”

Marco's chuckled. “Well then you went through a lot of trouble for nothing! You've already gotten me the perfect gift!”

Star blinked and looked quizzically at Marco. “Really? What is it?”

Marco smiled. “My best friend being with me on my birthday, that's what.”

Tears welled up in Star's eyes. She leaped at Marco; miraculously sailed over the cake, the soda, the plates, and Abuela Diaz's “Muy Bueno Grande Tacos;” and knocked him and the Birthday Boy Throne to the ground as she hugged him.

It still bugged Star that she hadn't gotten Marco a different gift than the perfect one.

But he said he didn't mind, so Star figured she'd have to learn not to, either.


End file.
